


LoveSick

by realityIllusionist



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Chaptered, Eventual Romance, Innuendo, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sickfic, Therion is clueless, probably no sexual content though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityIllusionist/pseuds/realityIllusionist
Summary: Therion has never enjoyed being vulnerable, and especially not when it means someone else needs to take care of him. But when he gets sick and Alfyn tends to him, he finds that this time is different, and there's a reason why...





	LoveSick

It started out simple; a sneeze here and there, his fast, elegant movements slowing down ever so slightly— only someone who spent a great amount of time observing him would notice. While Alfyn did his best not to make staring at Therion a habit, it was something he couldn’t help but do— Therion was just so  _ captivating  _ that he couldn’t help but stare. All this time spent watching him proved useful, however, as he was able to figure it out possibly even before Therion did.

“You’re getting sick,” he commented one evening as the party began to settle for the night. Therion looked at him, shaking his head and dismissively waving his hand. 

“I’ll be fine,” he stated, as if this was a fact and not his likely-wrong opinion.

“I don’t know.” Alfyn looked him skeptically. “You seem like you’re gettin’ sick to me. I’d like to at least take a look at you, if that’s okay.”

Therion mumbled something under his breath, but nodded anyways. Alfyn stood up and looked at him, quickly noticing a deep flush on his skin. “You’re really red,” he commented, to which Therion simply looked away from him. Placing a hand on his forehead, Alfyn frowned. “You’re really hot..” 

“I am?” Therion asked, sounding very confused and and a little flustered.

“Yeah, you’re burning up.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I am a little warm.” Therion said dismissively, shrugging his shoulders. 

“This ain’t good, Theri. I better tell the rest of the group that we should stop for a few days and let you get better. Can’t have our best fighter collapsin’ mid-battle, now can we?”

“I’m not…” Therion began, then decided against it. 

“I’ll be right back, alright? You just sit tight.” Alfyn smiled at him, and Therion swore his heart started beating faster— maybe he  _ was _ sick, after all. Strangely, though, it only happened around Alfyn— had he been a mage, Therion would’ve sworn he’d put some sort of hex on him. But Alfyn was just an apothecary with a sickeningly good heart and disgustingly pure set of morals. 

Alfyn was pure and happy, untouched by the corrupt life that Therion had been exposed to since childhood, having lived a fairly peaceful life in Clearbrook, never worrying about the potentially fatal consequences of his actions, as he didn’t do anything that would warrant his death. Alfyn was so innocent and peaceful that a part of Therion wanted to defile him, to find out if underneath that perfect exterior lie someone just as depraved as he was; or perhaps he just craved the touch of another person after being alone for so long. Though he knew he shouldn’t be thinking like that, he couldn’t help but crave being close to Alfyn for a reason that even he couldn’t figure out. 

As if on cue, Alfyn walked back into the room, smiling at Therion. That  _ stupid _ smile did things to Therion, things he didn’t appreciate very much. 

“Good news! I talked to the others and they’re fine with stoppin’ for a bit ‘till we get you back on your feet. Now, I ain’t sure what you have just yet, so I’m not all that sure how long it’ll take, but just know that I’ll take care of you, alright? You’re in good hands.” Alfyn grinned, holding up his palms and wiggling his fingers a little, as if showing Therion his hands would reassure him about his previous statement. It didn’t, but it  _ did _ make him think that it shouldn’t be possible for someone as cute as Alfyn to exist. 

“Oh, one other thing. Since we don’t know if what you’ve got is contagious just yet, I don’t want any others here with you, just in case they end up catchin’ it as well, so it’s just gonna be you and me for a little while, hope you don’t mind.” He added, and Therion had to stop himself from saying he’d prefer it that way. 

_ Shit, _ he was in too deep. The logical part of his mind was screaming at him that he could make it without the others, and that he should just take his things and leave before he decided that he truly  _ wanted _ to stay; before he decided that he wanted something with Alfyn. 

Unfortunately for him, he was sick right now. He didn’t get sick often, which meant that this was likely going to incapacitate him for at least a few days, and Alfyn was a skilled apothecary. For now, he was in Alfyn’s overly-gentle hands, something he shouldn’t have been okay with.

And yet, for some reason or another, he was.


End file.
